


Happy Birthday School

by SpaceNightwing



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood Memories, Family Feels, Family of Choice, Fluff, Sheith if you squint really hard, Shiro's birthday, Super Light Angst, leap year is confusing, or just want it to be Sheith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 08:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13830240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceNightwing/pseuds/SpaceNightwing
Summary: The one where Keith can’t math, Pidge is brilliant, Lance loves music, Hunk needs some training and Shiro doesn’t understand how much everyone loves him. Also, translating is hard.





	Happy Birthday School

**Author's Note:**

> A present for Shiro's birthday gift exchange on Tumblr though @vldxchange for @Kittykattykatherine! 
> 
> Unimportant sidenote: very small reference to the movie Hidden Figures because space exploration is a thing and the movie is life. 
> 
> Japanese Google translations:  
> Sobo — Grandmother  
> Sōsobo — Great Grandmother  
> Idaina sofu — Great Grandfather  
> Ko - Child

It’s scaring him that he’s displaying very Slav like behavior.  He’s checked the numbers over and over again, to the point where it’s something only Slav would do. The difference between Keith and Slav is that Slav checks his numbers to make sure his answer is right. Keith has checked his answers at least twenty times and each time he’s getting different answers.

Converting ticks to seconds and dobashes to minutes and vargas to hours and quintents to days and earth days to years and turning quintents into earth years and calculating how long it’s been since they all left Earth in the Blue Lion and what day that was and and and….

No. Keith is smart, but his mind just can’t keep track of this. There’s a reason he’s the muscle of the team, not the brains.

Swallowing his pride, Keith seeks out the one person he knows could figure this out: Pidge.

There’s really one place to look for the green paladin when she’s not on a mission. Pidge's lab has become her makeshift living quarters. She does have a room to go to, but she insists on staying in the place where she can do the most work, resulting in only one place Keith needs to look.

Just as he suspected, Keith finds Pidge in the lab, hunched over some project that is so import that only a call for Voltron would interrupt her, which is why he is slightly surprised when Pidge acknowledges his presents before he says anything.

 "No," Pidge says without even looking up from her doohickey.

 Keith stops in his tracks. "Excuse me?" he says with a raised eyebrow.

 “You're the loner, Keith. The only reason you would come looking for anyone is because you want something. Who you look for speaks to what you want. You look for Shiro, you want more training. You look for Hunk, you want food. You look for Lance - for whatever reason - you're bored enough to go looking to be annoyed. You look for me, you need something. And I'm busy updating the Galra tracker so that it includes the probability of-"

 "Pidge!" Keith interrupts her babbling. He loves the girl like a sister, but he cannot keep up with the tech jargon to save his life, so better to stop her while she's ahead.

 The green paladin looks up confused. "What?"

 "I know you're busy, but I promise, this will only take a second."

 Pidge looks at Keith over the rim of her glasses, her tongue slightly sticking out. It's her thinking face.

 "A second? Not a tick?"

 "That's exactly why I need you. I need to know what day it is."

 Pidge's eyebrows knot. "Wednesday…?"

 "No, like, what month? What day would it be at the Garrison?"

 Pidge looks physically board when she responds. "You understand how simple that calculation is, right?"

 "Maybe for the single smartest person in the universe. But for use lesser beings, I need to know what day it. Would you mind?"

 Pidge rolls her eyes but picks up her pencil. True to her word, Pidge has a complete calculation. "It's Wednesday, February 21st, 2018 at 21:23:42." Without looking up, she goes back to her Galra tracker.

Keith does the math in his head. 21:33 is military time for 9:33pm. Pidge is so good that she gets the calculation down to the second. "Thanks, Pidge." She simply hums in response. Before leaving, Keith's curiosity gets the better of him, even though he's pretty sure he'll regret it. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?”  She looks up at Keith, straightening her back out for the first time.

"Keep track of that? I mean, time is a social construct based on the Earth's rotation of the sun. We’re whole lightyears away from Earth. How do you keep track of that?"

"Keith, if time is a social construct with no relevance to anything outside the Earth's context of the sun, why ask at all?"

The red paladin takes a breath, but stops before he says anything. She's not wrong, especially considering the particular date he's looking for. "Never mind. Thank you though."

"Anytime," Pidge says with a smile before going back to her tech thingy.

"Oh! One last thing." Now Pidge is actually getting annoyed, but she hums again. "Do you happen to remember when the last Leap Year was?"

"2016.”

"You sure?" Pidge looks up and glares at him over the rim of her glasses. "Right," Keith signs. "Well thank you again. Can you meet in the mess hall in about an hour?"

"You mean a quintent, given hours are irrelevant without the Earth's sun?"

Keith rolls his eyes with “smartass,” under his breath. Pidge just smiles.

“I’ll be there,” she says.

“See you then.”

***

It took a little work, but Keith is able to gather Team Voltron in the mass hall, excluding Shiro, without the black paladin finding out about the meeting. The trickier part had been finding a way to do it without Lance or Coran blaming, but a success is a success!

 “Alright guys,” Keith says to settle everyone down. It doesn’t work.

 “Where is Shiro?” Allura asks.

 “Busy. I called this meeting without him on purpose.”

 “Wait!” Lance cuts in. “You’re not planning a coup, are you? I _am not_ following your lead again!”

 Hunk looks visibly shaken. “Wait, a coup? Keith why are you planning a coup?! What happen?”

 “I’m not planning a coup!” Keith tries to defend, but it doesn’t work well. Lance and Hunk are going back and forth and Allura is all but yelling at Keith.

 “How could you?”

 “This is crazy!”

 “Is Shiro okay oh my goodness what happened?!”

 Keith drops his head to his chest. Why does this happen to him?

 Thankfully, it’s Pidge who comes to his rescue. She cups her hands over her mouth and yells “ _quiet!_ ” Everyone turns to look at the smallest paladin. “There is no coup. Where did you all even get that idea?” All eyes go to Lance, who is firm in his defense.

 “If there’s no coup why is there a team meeting without the team leader?”

 “Because I want to surprise him, idiot,” Keith puts more venom into his words then he means to, but geez, where did that come from?

 “Surprise?”  Allura puts in. “Surprise him with what?”

 Lance shrugs down into his chair and mutters. “A coup would surprise him.” Everyone chooses to ignore him, if not for a few daggers glares at the blue paladin.

 “His birthday,” Keith says in a calm voice. Everyone seems to perk up at his words.  He’s finally getting to what he wanted to get to. “A week from now is Shiro’s birthday. I think we should do something for him.”

 Pidge’s face lights up while Hunk’s confusion is immediate. The two chime in at the same time “That’s why you had me do that!” “Isn’t his birthday on Leap Year?”

 Keith responds, “Yes and yes. Pidge, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t overshooting with Leap Year. That’s why I asked for your help.”

 “And because time isn’t relative without Earth rotation to the sun,” she says with a raised eyebrow. Rather than get into it again, Keith tells everyone to blow off the comment as an inside joke.

 “Wait,” Lance puts in. “Shiro’s birthday is on Leap Year?” Keith hums in response. “Doesn’t that make him, like, what, seven?”

 “Six actually,” Pidge replied matter-of-factly.

 Lance throws his head back in laughter while the other humans try their best to keep a straight face. The Alteans, on the other hand, have confusion written all over their faces.  Allura asks “why would we do something for his birthday? He is not a newborn.”

 “And he looks much older than six, no?” Caron puts in.

 Hunks gives the aliens a look. “Did you guys not celebrate birthdays on Altea?”

 “Well, there is a large community celebration when a new child is born. One is only born once. Why make a fuss over something that cannot happen again?”

 “Oh, this is like a culture thing!” Lance beams.

 “We have a genius in the house,” Pidge comments under her breath.

 Keith takes the reigns back. “On Earth – or in Western cultures mostly – we celebrate the yearly anniversary of someone’s birth. It’s like deciding an entire day to you and your accomplishment of not dying.”

 “But,” Pidge interrupts, “this slightly different for people born on Leap Year.”

 “And why would you leap a year?” Caron asks, twirling his mustache.

 "Well, in a tropical year, it takes planet Earth approximately 366.242189 days, or 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes, and 45 seconds to complete one circle around the sun. This is measured from the March equinox. At the same time, the Gregoria's calendar has 365 days in a year. If we didn't add a extra day to the calendar, Earth would lose approximately six hours off the calendar every year. After 100 years, the calendar would bee off by 24 days, six hours, 24 minutes and 38 seconds. So the only logical conclusion to even out -"

“You had to ask,” Lance says with deep eye roll, cutting off Pidge's physics lesson.

“The Earth calendar isn’t perfect,” Hunk translates. “Earth’s rotation pace doesn’t necessarily fall in line with human’s ability to measure time.”

“Which is why,” Pidge cuts in again, “the Altean time systems makes a ton more since!”

“So, every four years we add an extra day to the calendar and create February 29th. It evens out the calendar so that it works with the Earth’s rotation.”

“And,” Allura says, putting the prices together. “Shiro’s birthday is on this created day that happens every four years?”

“Right,” Pidge says. “So that typically makes him six years old, because it’s only his official birthday every four years.”

“Is this one of those years?”

“No.”

“Then,” Allura continues, “It is not his birthday. What is there to celebrate?”

“Come on Allura,” Keith snaps, his voice sharper then he intends. “It may not be February 29th, but after everything Shiro has done for us, after everything he's been through, doesn’t he deserve something? He spent his last birthday as a slave in a Galra prison. I think he has something to celebrate. I think we all do."

The room goes quiet as the six heroes take in Keith's words. What hits them the most is the fact that Shiro spent his last birthday as a prisoner. Sure, Shiro has his moments where his missing year seriously affects him. But those times are getting further and fewer between. Sometimes his scar and white hair are the only indication that that even happened. And when Keith put it into that kind of prospective, suddenly there is no more debate. It's something they all have to do.

Lance is the first to shatter the silence. "So what'd you have in mind boss?"

***

  **One week later**

 " _Do you know where you come from, Ko?” Her voice is sweet, frail, gentle and stern all at the same time. She speaks to her grandson with the fearless love any grandmother has, yet keeps a distance out of cultural customs. It is unbecoming to show too much emotion. But even still, if the child is to respect his heritage, he must know where he comes from and what it means to be an American. He must know what it is he has to life up to._

  _T_ _akashi is a six year old child. His grandmother really doesn’t expect him to fully understand what she’s telling him, but it’s never too early to start._

  _“I come from mama!” the child exclaims._

  _“Yes. And where did your mama come from?”_

  _“Sobo!”_

  _“And where does Soba come from?” The child stops. His knowledge of the world doesn’t extend beyond his grandmother. His great grandmother and great grandfather died long before he was born. But just because they are gone does mean the old woman will let their memories die. “Soba comes from Sōsobo and Idaina sofu. They came to this country from a faraway land when they were very young. Do you remember why?”_

  _“Because America is the dream!”_

  _“That’s right, Ko. America was the dream. My mother and father shared a desire to provide for me, so they left everything behind in Japan and made a new life in the New World!” Her voice is animated, retelling the dreamland version every Japanese immigrant had when they uprooted to make it in the land of opportunity. What she doesn’t tell Takashi is that she watched her mother and father work themselves to the bone in factories for hours on end to make rent and provide food. She doesn’t tell him that there were several night without food and clean water. She doesn’t tell him of the horrors the Land of Opportunity pushed upon their people before they arrived on the California shore. There will be time for those stories. But for now, she is happy to tell the third generation American the story of immigrant strength and the American Dream. “Do you remember your Sofu?”_

  _Takashi shakes his head innocently and the old woman sighs deeply. It’s hopeless to think the small mind will remember her husband who pass far too soon. But still, she must try to keep his memory alive even after she herself has passed on. “Your Sofu was an incredible man, Takashi. He worked so hard, just like your Sōsobo and Idaina sofu. And he was smart. So smart! He put man on the moon!”_

  _“Woooah!” The little eyes of a child widen in amazement and his mouth forms a small O._

  _“That’s right. Your Sofu worked for NASA. They put people in space. He worked alongside Katherine Johnson and many others to create fantastic machines that put Nail Armstrong on the moon.”_

  _The six year old giggles. “I wanna do that!”_

  _And his grandmother smiles a smile too wide for her face. Her wrinkles pull tight across her face and deepens deep laugh lines. “Oh Ko, yes. Sofu would be so proud of you!”_

  _“Moon moon moon!” The boy jumps off his grandmother’s lap and runs around the small living room. After finding a discarded cardboard cereal box, he holds it way above his head and runs all over the house making rocket and lazar gun sounds. As the grandmother watches the child, she can’t help but laugh a bittersweet laugh. It was a white nationalist that took her husband away from her. While her late husband and the small child share a lot in common, she’ll be damned if they end up sharing more than a love of space, sheer determination, and a name meaning noble honor._

  **_13 years later_ **

  _He’s in a line of 200 other students, wondering how in the world he ended up here so fast. Seems like just yesterday he was struggling with girls and art classes. And while neither of those things have improved much, it still doesn’t explain how he ended up at high school graduation two years early._

  _Takashi Shirogane is one of the youngest graduates here today, and one of the youngest ever to be accepted into the Galaxy Garrison, the finest school for all space exploration. It’s the school on the verge of cutting edge science and opportunities. It’s been rumored that the Garrison is planning a trip to one of Pluto’s moons, Kerberos.  If he can graduate in time, maybe – just maybe – he’ll be qualified for the mission. What a time to be alive!_

 Easy Shirogane, _he thinks to himself._ One step at a time. First, get through high school graduation without falling on the stage.

  _But if he could get to Kerberos… his grandmother…  his grandfather… he’d be one of the first to reach the greatest distance traveled into space by a human.  A Japanese American, the first to reach Pluto. That’s unreal! He’d be like his grandfather in more than just name. He’d live up to his great grandparents legacy of immigrate strength. There’s so much on the line, and it starts with the high school diploma._

  _The school principal stands at the microphone center stage. “Takashi Shirogane.”_ _He walks up the steps, shakes hands with his favorite science teacher, and accepts his diploma._

  _He holds both arms high over his head, showing off the achievement to his family. He hears his mother. His father. His brother. In his head, he can hear is Sobo._

  _This is the start of something amazing._

 

Shiro wakes up somehow more tired than when he went to bed, which is saying something considering the training match he had against the Gladiator yesterday.

His mind wanders back to his dreams. Memories of his childhood started showing up in his dreams after he was taken prisoner by Zarkon and his goons. They were the only luxury he could hold onto that the Galra couldn’t take from him. They took his arm, but not even the Druids could take his family from him.

Those memories were the only thing that had kept him sane.

Immigrant strength. Takashi honor. One more day. One more fight. One more memory.

What he finds strange is that the dream memories didn’t stop after he escaped the Galra. He figured that his subconscious had been using a survival mechanism during his imprisonment. Yet freedom hasn’t stopped the dreams. Not that he’s complaining. He misses his family, his Sobo. He misses being a six year old child, believing that the world was as big as his schools playground and the worst that could happen was a bully trying to take his pet lady bug. He’ll hold onto the dream memories for as long as he can.

A knock at the door pulls Shiro from his thoughts.

As much as he doesn’t want to see people right now, he’s still team leader. That role doesn’t end when the paladin armor comes off. “Come in,” He yells. The hydroelectric doors open to reveal an unsure looking Hunk. The big guy has his hands behind his back and his head down. He clearly doesn’t know what to do with himself, which throws Shiro off.

Hunk doesn’t say anything for a long while. Weather he’s uncomfortable asking what he wants to ask or just doesn’t want to be here, Shiro doesn’t know. He’s always had an open door policy when it comes to his personal room but no one actually uses that policy; giving respectful space to the leader who has more than earned it. After a full minute of awkward shifting on Hunks part and lazy staring on Shiro’s part, Shiro finally mutters “you gonna tell me or am I gonna have to read your mind?”

“You promised me a training section this morning,” Hunk says finally looking Shiro in the eyes, showing confidence in the face of confrontation. Even if it’s most likely a façade.

Shiro tried to recall the promise. He reminds yesterday’s mission on planet Eruta. The people of Eruta had never been colonized by the Galra, but Team Voltron had spotted Zarkon’s scouting ships a little too close to the edge of its Empire. Based on nothing more then a hunch, Pidge led an infiltration mission into one of the scouting ships. Team Voltron stole data that revealed Zarkon’s plans to expand the Empire to make up for the mass it had loss due to Voltron liberating a significant amount of the Empire. Eruta, a planet with a mass 200 times larger then Mars, was the Galra’s prize.

For its sheer size, the population of Eruta has very little in the means of self-defense. Much like nuclear weapons on Earth, the Erutans had created weapons that were capable of destroying their own planet. And while such weapons could easily take care of Galra scouting ships, using them would also kill about 80% of the planet’s population. Domestically, the weapons worked to maintain peace between warring factions though mutually assured distraction. However, that left the planet variable to outside attacks. And with the rare metals found on the planet, it would be a massive victory in expanding the Galra Empire. In the universe’s eternal poetic sense of irony, the only way the people of Eruta could remain free was by pushing their population to extinction.

Team Voltron spent the next week formulating plans and running scenarios. When their plan was just right, they were able to drive the scouting ships far from the planet.

However, during the mission, things went sideways for a few seconds. An Erutan, no more than a child, was nearly taken prisoner by the Empire. Lance took out the soldier with his Bayard and Hunk went in to save the child. That move nearly cost Hunk his life.

Hunk finally came to the decision that it was high time he learned some basic hand-to-hand combat. He was under no impression that he was ever going to best any of the paladins in a hand-to-hand fight, but the least he could do was learn how to take down a damn sentry. And who better to learn about robot combat from other then the former Champion himself?

Shiro runs all this through his head in a matter of seconds. He remembers Hunk’s shame in nearly failing to save the child. Shiro had reassured Hunk that his actions were successful. No one was hurt and everyone went home alive. But even still, Hunk had been wrapped in guilt; guilt that Shiro does not believe was earned. Hunk had done his job.

Shiro doesn’t remember agreeing to train Hunk in hand-to-hand combat. He doesn’t even remember Hunk asking. If he had, absolutely Shiro would teach him. But he doesn’t think he deserves this awkwardness from the big guy if Hunk never asked him. Hunk stopped being that awkward guy a while ago. Plus, doesn’t Hunk like to sleep in?

Rather than fight with him, Shiro sighs. “Yeah, sorry Hunk. Just slipped my mind. Give me 10 I’ll meet you in the training arena.”

Hunk’s face lights up. “Thanks Shiro!” He runs off and the doors slide close, allowing Shiro to collapse on his bed. He throws his human arm over his face and, momentarily, allows himself to get lost. His graduation dream. The faint echo of his family’s cheers… He grabs hold of that sound and locks it in a safe in the back of his mind.

 _Time to go to work,_ he thinks to himself.

***

Shiro walks around the castle calling out Hunk’s name. The big guy didn’t meet him in the training ring. Shiro had waited for nearly a full dobash when he decided to find the yellow paladin himself. Why would the guy pull Shiro into a training section and not show up?

Well, he has a suspicion. The team in general has been acting strange for about a week. Keith has been following him like a lost puppy. Pidge has all but forbidden anyone from entering her lab unless there was an emergency, and demanded to know who was entering before opening the door. Lance has stopped lounging and seems to be productive, which is good news, but slightly out of character. Allura has only spoken of the mission, never taking a moment to joke around. And Coran has basically ignored him entirely. The only one not acting strange had been Hunk - until about a dobash ago - who’s been spending time in the kitchen, as usual. They think they’re all clever, but Shiro’s not an idiot. He knows something’s up. But whether they’re all leaving him in the dark on the same project or all just have their own crap going on, Shiro hasn’t decided.

Still, the castle shouldn’t be this quite. Shouldn’t be this empty.

Shiro’s footsteps echo along the empty halls and his voice seems to carry for longer than usual. The ship is enormous; way too much space for seven space travelers alone. But even in the empty spaces, there’s normally always some noise going on somewhere: the sounds of metal and computers chirping in Pidge’s lab, or Lance’s Enrique Iglesias or Pedrito Martinez Group music carrying about the halls, or Hunk tinkering in the forge or kitchen. This is the usual soundtrack that bounces off the halls of the space castle. But now, those background noises are completely gone, making the actual size of the seemingly empty castle known.

Shiro finds himself feeling suddenly very small. And very alone.

Where the hell is Hunk?

***

“Spotlights?” Coran yells.

“Check!” Allura responds.

“Balloons?”

“Check check,” Hunks responds.

“Karaoke machine and music?”

“Got you covered chief!” Lance yells back.

Coran carries through the checklist, making sure all the details are completed. Allura stands by him, adding comments here and there. Being who they are, they are both meticulous in their party planning and everything is turning out perfect. Instead of finding a friendly plant to host their party, they have opted to turn the lion hanger into their own party room. The Blade of Marmora, Residents fighters, and a few key allies are present, helping put the finishing touches around the normally cement hanger. The lions loom overhead, providing safely and familiarizes to the party atmosphere.

When everything looks just about ready, Coran turns to Hunk. “Alright then Hunk, you’re up. Go find Shiro!”

Hunk’s eyebrows meet in wrinkled confusion. “I already did..?”

Coran’s blood freezes. “You did what?!”

“You told me to go get him a few vargas ago, which I told you was strange because we weren’t done yet.”

“You already fetched him?” Coran clarifies.

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you.”

“Then where is he?” Allura nearly shrieks, turning the eyes of some of the party guests.

“I told him to meet me in the training ring but that was a long time ago. I’d be shocked if he was still there.”

“Hunk!” Keith yells.

“What!” Hunk wipes around to face Keith.

“So Shiro has been wandering around the castle for several hours looking for you? With no one in sight?” Keith looks about ready to strangle Hunk. It’s not a new look for him, but it’s normally directed at Lance. Hunk doesn’t like being on the receiving end of that purple glare. Pidge can be heard groaning in annoyance across the hanger but everyone ignores her.

“Calm down man. Shiro’s a big boy, he’s fine.”

“And he’s right here!” Pidge calls out.

Everyone turns to see Pidge walking Shiro into the hanger, pulling the man of the hour around by the left arm. He wears a face of deep crimson, making the scar across his nose stand out more than usual. But his smile is impossible to hide, no matter how hard he tries.

Kolivan is the first to recover. He gives an unseen order to his Blades and they respond in unison. They shot grapple guns into the mile high ceiling, immediately jump down, and land cheering “SURPRISE!”

The paladins and Resistance fighters follow suit. They run to their pre-determined hiding places then all jump out at different times, yelling “Surprise!” at different intervals, creating an awkward song of “Surprise, happy birthday!” that doesn’t seem to end.

And he can’t help it. Shiro lets out a deep-belly laugh that fills the hanger louder then ‘surprise’ song. Pidge laughs along with him, because the sight in front of them — heavily armed fighters, masked Blades, street clothed paladins falling over themselves in rapid jump-scares — is just too much. Even after the chorus dies down, Shiro and Pidge can’t stand up straight.

“Guys,” Ships lets out between laughs. “Guys! What… what are you…” He finally gathers himself enough to speak. “What are you doing?”

No one really answers, mostly because no one expected this kind of response. They did all that planning to be laughed at?

“Shiro,” Pidge says between deep breaths. “It’s a surprise party. Regardless of the ‘surprise aspect,’ it’s a birthday party for you.”

“What are you-?”

Lance says “Keith figured out-“

“I figured out,” Pidge cuts in.

“-that your birthday was coming up. Pidge figured out that it’s today. And we all figured that you deserved to celebrate turning six! Again!”

“Oh god,” Shiro mutters. “Guys, I’m not six.”

 "You’re six!” All the paladins conform excitingly. Shiro’s shoulders drop half-heartedly. He’s used to this joke and he’ll deny it if anyone accuses him of enjoying it.

 Suddenly, the lights turn off and the hanger goes nearly dark except for the glow provided by the lions. Then a smaller light appears at ground level and Hunk’s voice starts to actually sing. He gets out the first two notes and then everyone joins in.

 “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Shiro! Happy birthday to you!”

 By the time the song is over, Hunk is standing in front of Shiro with a cake, the top covered in six fire lit candles. Shiro closes his eyes and blows out the flames, resulting in cheers from the party crowd and the lights returning. The cake in Hunk’s hands is a single tier covered in black frosting, red, green, blue, and yellow outlines withハッピーバースデーシロ written across the top in white.

 Shiro can’t help but laugh out loud again. “You realize that says ‘Happy Birthday School’ right?”

 “What?!” Hunk’s face turns a deeper shade of red the Red.

 “I’m gonna guess Google Translate?”

 “Yes,” Hunk mutters.

 The black paladin can’t keep from giggling. “’Shiro’ doesn’t translate well to Japanese. Google thinks ‘Shiro’ is ‘school.’"

 The whole groups laughs again. Well, the humans do. None of the aliens quite know what’s going on.

 From Shiro’s prospective, it doesn’t matter. The handwriting is hard to read and the grammar is… odd to say the least. But if Shiro knows Hunk, Shiro knows the big guy tried his best. And the fact that any of them did any of this at all… It is not possible for him to find a flaw anywhere. Even if everyone insists on referring to him as a six years old.

 "Well what are we waiting for?!" Lance shrieks from across the hanger on a DJ stage. "Let’s get this party started right!"

 Immediately, the hanger lights black out again, but a disco ball lights up. Strobe lights flash, multiple sized spotlight of all the colors of the rainbow dance across the room and the speakers start blasting k-pop. Blade fighters, Resistance fighters, several species of alien and human all converge on the dance floor. Shiro, for once, goes right along with the crowd, instead of carrying the burden of leading it.

 The party goes off without an attack from a Galra fleet, any major explosions, and without running out of traditional Japanese, American, Cuban, Italian, Samoan and Altean food. For once, everything goes right all the way through the night.

 ***

 The next morning, Shiro finds himself sitting in the mess hall with the paladins of Voltron and the two Alteans who lead the team. Everyone is sleep deprived from the long night of loud music and dancing, but everyone is smiling and sharing memories of the night.

 Eventually, Pidge and Keith share some unseen agreement. Pidge leaves to the room. When Shiro tries to ask what is happening, Keith response with, "the party might be over, but your celebration isn't."

 Shiro gives the red paladin a hard stare. "What do you mean?"

 Lance rolls his eyes. "Your party had everything last night: cake, dancing, music, balloons, food. What’s the one thing that’s missing?"

 "Guys. The fact that any of you remembered at all-"

 Keith cuts in, "I remembered."

 "-is enough for me. A simple 'happy birthday' would have meant the world to me. I don't need anything."

 "Yeah, well," Hunk shrugs. "You're getting something anyway. So suck it up. Besides, it can't be returned and it's already made."

 "Well I can't argue with that logic." Right as Shiro finishes his sentence, Pidge walks back into the room holding a box the size and shape of a chemistry textbook behind her back. With much bravado, she drops the box into Shiro's lap.

 "Open it," she commands. "From all of us."

 Shiro rolls his eyes, but can't say he's not excited.

 He pulls back a single strip of tape from the cardboard box. Inside, he finds an old leather bound book. Discarding the box, Shiro looks though the book. And honestly cannot believe what he sees in his hands.

 It’s a picture book filled with snapshots from his childhood. He sees his Sobo and himself at his childhood kitchen table. He sees the faces of childhood friends he can still name: Hiro, Kuro, Katherine, Nobu, Amy, Matías, Jose, Megan, Muhammad, Nate, Isaac, just to name a few. As he turns the pages, the pictures get older, until he finds a picture of his high school graduation. Then his graduation from the Garrison. Himself in her astronaut space suit. Himself, Matt and Commander Holt walking to the space ship that will take them to Kerberos **.** His face in these pictures – scar free, and hair midnight black just like his fathers – looks so happy. So innocent. "Pidge…?" Shrio's voice is just barely above a whisper but he does not look up from the book. If he did, he'd see the proud, smiling faces of the six people around him.

 Then the pictures change. At least, he does. His face now fashions a white scar across his nose, with a white patch of hair to match. But that gleam in his eyes, it’s the same as his childhood eyes; just as bright, optimistic, and mischievous as before.

 There are epic pictures of Voltron slicing through Galra ships. Pictures of Shiro flying Black, a smile so wide it rivals the size of the cosmos. There are pictures of Lance, Allura, Keith, Hunk, Coran, and Pidge goofing off around the castle. Pictures of liberated peoples and whole planet celebrations in thanks for the freedom Voltron had provided.

 The very last page is a simple picture. It features the lion cheerleader pyramid the team had made when they had been training to form Voltron to begin with. Shiro finds amazing simplicity in this being the last picture. He remembers how silly he had felt then. They all had. But if the paladins in that picture could see themselves now… Shiro is in awe of how far they have come. Together.

 "Shiro?" Keith asks. "You okay man?"

 Shiro hadn't realized how misty his vision had become until he heard his name aloud. He quickly wipes away a single tear and looks to the smallest paladin. "How did you do this?"

 Lance huffs. "How do you know I didn’t do it?"

 Everyone ignores him. They all know, Lance included, that Pidge is the only one with the skills to pull something like this off. In fact, the photo album had been her idea.

 "All these pictures," Shiro says. "Most of them only exist as hard copies and all of they are on Earth. They don't exist in the digital world."

 "I wonder," Pidge says "when you all will stop underestimating my power and start trusting me."

 "Allura and Keith helped," Hunk puts in.

 The Altean nods her head. "Its simple magic really. I used an old spell that turns memories into holographic form, similar to what my father did with his subconscious. Pidge took those forms and made them digital."

 “And then from there,” Pidge chimes in, “it was as simple as finding a printer.”

 "Then where did you get the memories from my childhood?" Shiro asks. "It wasn't me."

 Hunk laughs. "I did say that Keith helped, didn't I?"

 "Keith?"

 The younger paladin shrugs half-heartedly. "I just remembered some of the old photos around your house. Your mom frames and displays everything."

 "And you remembered all of them?"

 "Hell no," Keith says with a shy smile. "Just the ones that your mom demanded to be known."

 "And the pictures from after Kerberos?”

 Lance leans forward. "We all did that. We recalled some of our favorite memories, Allura did her magic trick, Pidge did some Photoshop magic, and wallah! One magic-picture-book for the six year old's birthday boy!"

 Shiro laughs despite himself. He lowers his head back to the pictures and starts the book again. This time, his new family gathers to look through the pictures with him. They laugh at baby Shiro showing his bear butty in one picture, and coo at a picture of Sobo giving teenage Shiro a kiss on the cheek.

 With his old family is his hands and memories, with his new family surrounding him, for the first time in a long time, Shiro finds himself feeling safe and loved. And that is the only present he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, huge shout out to marvelgirl441 on Tumblr for bata work! This girl is magic!
> 
> *Source for information as to how Leap Year works (Pidge's explanation): https://www.timeanddate.com/date/leapyear.html
> 
> Represention of Japanese culture and life as an immigrant was done though my own research, not experience - my family has been in the US so long I’m not even sure when we immigrated.... so if anyone has issue with my descriptions of Japanese culture or life as a third generation immigrant, please let me know how to better improve it. The last thing I want to do is show a negative/inaccurate image of cultures I’ve never experienced!


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